Mountain Lakes and Misread Signs
by EmmelineVance713
Summary: AU where Mahoutokoro and Ilvermorny have an exchange program, but one student misreads a sign...


**A/N:**

 **School: Mahoutokoro**

 **Year: 6**

 **Theme: Durmstrang**

 **Prompt: "Actually, I think you will find that _ is the greatest magical school in the word!" he/she exclaimed. [Dialogue] - insert the school of your choice here.**

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My parents, and their many ancestors, and several generations preceding them had all attended Ilvermorny, the American wizarding school. Each of my fathers and forefathers had participated in such a hallowed and old tradition, it's a wonder that this exchange exists in my young generation. Nevertheless, I was thirteen years old, naive and excited to attend Mahoutokoro, the Japanese wizarding school for my third year of magical education.

The exchange program at Ilvermorny was ancient, honored, and rarely spoken of beyond the castles of my aforementioned school and Mahoutokoro. Five second-year children selected according to academic achievement, Quidditch prowess, and desire for participation are summoned to Professor Fontaine's office one week before the term ends. Our great headmaster tells us tales of a majestic palace of mutton-fat jade, of a school atop a towering volcano, and storm petrels flying in swarms through the sky. He asks if we'd like to spend a year as scholars at Mahoutokoro, the Japanese wizarding school, and of course I jumped at the chance.

Two boys in my year teasingly asked the professor if he wanted to send us to Japan rather than keep us educated at his own school of magic. Casting away the jokes and fables, Fontaine's response was quite dispelling to their speculations.

"Actually, I think you will find that Ilvermorny is the greatest magical school in the world!" he exclaimed. "And I have not taught my students anything to the contrary! Mahoutokoro is a different experience, and I expect you all to benefit." And that was that. I abandoned my blue robes for a set of rose ones. My wand, typically placed in Ilvermorny's hall over the summer vacation, was tucked away in a special case held by my father in preparation for the start of the next school year. (I was particularly proud of this wand, as Mahoutokoro praises scholars who possess wands of cherry wood, which mine was constructed out of.) This new adventure was one I looked forward to highly as a young third year. Now, a summer later, I had a significant bounce in my step when I pivoted to apparate alongside my mother and father.

Around dusk on the day before the term would begin, as I said goodbyes to my parents and my fifteen-year-old sister at the Chicago subway entrance, I wondered what house I'd be selected for. Would I be a member of House Toppuu for my wit or Shunrai for my interest in astronomy? I ceased to pay attention to the path my feet were tracing through the station's walkways, instead lugging my suitcase behind me and envisioning my dorms, my classes, my new friends. Dark hallways and a metal staircase I knew only from written directions led me to a dead end, with two doors facing in opposite directions.

I suppose in my inability to read signs correctly, I had mistaken my fledgling Japanese for some European language. I chose the door that had complex characters inscribed into the metal plaque, an arrangement of runes that appealed to my curiosity and vague knowledge of foreign language. Yet when I placed my feet on the opposite side of the door, I realized my earlier state of excitement had clouded my judgment, for this was not the brightly lit hallway I had been lectured about finding. No, instead I was trembling in the dark, my only source of light the dim, flickering bulb behind me. Facing the darkness with a lump in my throat and deep confusion, I tentatively set down one foot after another. Did I have to keep walking? Was this a test? Surely I wouldn't be allowed to use my wand.

"Who is there?" A heavily accented voice barked in my direction. I froze in my tracks, unable to move a muscle. The stranger hastily muttered a phrase under their breath and I saw a wand become illuminated in the distance. Footsteps rapidly approached me, and I turned my head away, holding my suitcase in front of me like a protective shield.

"Who are you?" The same sharp, cutting voice echoed through the hallway, which my adjusting eyes could now see was a tunnel. As the figure moved closer, I could make out their broad, menacing shape. The wizard, which I had discerned is male and foreign, approached me with great strides. Eventually, I rotated my head fully, no longer relying on peripheral vision to view the hulking man before me.

"Are you lost, junge?" He hissed, and I gulped as I took in the tattoos, the scowl, the hair buzzed close to the scalp. This was no friendly, plump, motherly woman who was supposed to escort me and my fellow American students to the coast of Japan through magical transport and stories of Mahoutokoro. In fact, I was certain even more than before that I was horribly lost, and that this was a mistake. I attempted to turn back on my heel and run to the beginning of the tunnel I had entered, but the intimidating stranger picked me up by the back of my blazer and barked harshly at me.

"Where are you going, little junge?" I opened my mouth to speak, but words did not form and my tongue froze in a rather awkward position. He dropped me on my knees and I scrambled to the exit, forgetting my suitcase. Alas, it would not have mattered, for the door was firmly locked, and daylight was fading in the sewer I was trapped in.

A low, gravelly laugh sounded behind me, and I slowly turned around to view my possible demise.

"You won't be able to get out of that, it is locked for good. Come with me, junge." I was identifying the accent as German, and as I regretfully picked up my suitcase off the mildewed concrete, I struggled to piece together the circumstances. Where was I headed with this strange man? Why hadn't I gone through the other door? How would I go to Mahoutokoro now? Exactly how much danger had I placed myself in just by carelessly misreading a sign?

Focus, Alastor. You are from Ilvermorny, the greatest magical school in the world. You can find your way out of this.

"The greatest magical school in the world," I muttered as I trudged at a steady pace behind the foreigner. Of course, I didn't realize I had repeated the sentiment audibly, and the tattooed man whisked around.

"And that school is that?" He uttered, eyes ablaze in the dim light of the subway tunnel. His pupils dilated, and the man seemed to grow in the silence before my response.

"Well, Ilvermorny, sir, I suppose, s-sir," I whispered, finding my voice for the first time since entering the wrong passage. His laugh boomed throughout my brain, ricocheting off the walls of the tunnel and chilling me.

"Actually, I think you will find that Durmstrang is the greatest magical school in the world!" He exclaimed heartily, animosity replaced with amusement. "Ah, stupid little junge, why would you be attending Durmstrang if you do not recognize its greatness?"

My brain exploded with a revelation. German accent, hulking figure, belief in the wonderful institution that is Durmstrang, a sign that was written in a foreign language...I had long heard rumors among my classmates of another wizarding school exchange program run from Castelobruxo in Brazil to Durmstrang in Northern Europe, but never imagined they would process it, well, here. Did my tan skin cause this man to mistake me for a South American youngster ready to learn at the academy of magic most well known for producing dark wizards? Did he expect me to want to learn there as opposed to idyllic, exciting Mahoutokoro?

"Junge. Walk faster, or we will arrive at Durmstrang never." A grumble issued in my direction stated, and I made sure to quicken my pace. "Ze other students have arrived, you are the last one, little junge. Headmaster Vagaronvah vill be angry if we are not there on time, narr." Thankfully, after his words were issued, we neared the light at the end of the tunnel, an incline appeared and increased the difficulty of my steps. With one final breath, I pushed past the concrete of the subway, dragging my suitcase behind me, and stepped into...a cramped room.

Nine other children of varying ethnicities and genders stood next to a menacing man taller than my escort. They all wore crimson robes, which intensely contrasted to the light pink ones I wore over my normal jerkin. Their expressions ranged from intimidated to gleeful to nauseous, and I paled at the sight of the blindfolds the second man held in his fist.

In a guttural tone, the two muscular men conversed in German. I saw several hand gestures directed at me, and the word junge murmured several times. While the Germans discussed me and the other exchange students, I wondered if my classmates from Ilvermorny were wondering where I was. Were they worried? Scared? Still waiting for me on the other side of the subway passage, or halfway to Japan? Was I about to be sent home in disgrace, or murdered by the brutish men standing not two feet away from me?

One of the boys standing closest to me seemed to be nodding along to the conversation running adjacent to our cluster.

"Do you understand German?" I spoke softly and slowly.

"Yes." My fellow student muttered with a solemn shadow to his face. "They are discussing how they will murder you in cold blood with a dismembering curse." I gasped far too loudly, and every other student turned from their whispers to stare. The boy who had caused me so much distress began to chuckle. "They are only discussing how they can send you back to Ilvermorny, because that is where you are from, right? They only might kill you if you insult Durmstrang again."

"You frightened the wits out of me. I am from Ilvermorny, yes, but I was headed to Mahoutokoro for an exchange program this year." Embarrassed, I ducked my head before continuing. "I misread a sign and ended up in the tunnel adjacent to the one I intended to find. I am not sure what is going to happen from here, but I would be very ashamed to have to return to the castle here in America. I'm sure you would be if you were shipped back to Brazil after coming this far." He nodded in understanding and held out a hand.

"I am Rafael. I hope you get to go to Japan, after all, I'm sure your headmaster had valid reasons to select you. And in regards to your statement, I would be satisfied with a trek back to my home. Actually, I think that you will find Castelobruxo is the greatest magical school in the world! Not Durmstrang nor Mahoutokoro nor Ilvermorny can touch it." I chuckled as I extended a no longer shaking hand in response.

"I am Alastor, Rafael. And I am determined to prove to you that no matter what anyone thinks, I come from a great magical school no matter where I may spend my third year. You have no idea how many times I have heard otherwise lately." We smiled as we shook hands, and I could see the other students appalled at Rafael's gesture of friendship towards a stranger who was practically a stowaway. However, despite the shock of the rest of the program, the German escorts from Germany were staring too. The man from the subway pulled me aside with a grunt as his sidekick distributed blindfolds to the Brazilian students, including my new acquaintance. I prepared for a lecture and a walk back to the entrance of the tunnel, where I would be sent home in disgrace, but instead, I was met with a scrap of burgundy silk shoved into my face.

"Put this on, junge." I sputtered in confusion.

"But aren't I supposed to be sent home? I can't possibly be-"

"Coming to Durmstrang? The tenth student from Castelobruxo has seemingly been as stupid as you and misread a simple sign, entering the Mahoutokoro rendezvous area instead of finding their way here. They have been allowed to remain, so we will not have an empty seat in our classrooms this year. Are you a coward, or do you wish to study well?" He left me thinking if I desired to study at a school with such a terrible reputation as Durmstrang, flee home to Ilvermorny, or...was there any other choice? My subconscious decision came to the forefront of my mind and flew into words before I could even comprehend what this meant.

"I accept." And with that, I took the blindfold, placed it over my flopping hair, and carefully stepped into line next to Rafael. A chilling memory charm was placed on the nine students alongside me, and when the fellow from the subway reached me at the end, he whispered,

"Wise choice, little junge." And with that, we departed.

I attended Durmstrang for the entire third year of my magical education. I was the first generation in my family to come to this school, and very likely the last. Yet as I dove into the beautiful lake next to my friend Rafael and the giant ship; gazed out over the sprawling grounds, mountains, and fields as I packed my crimson robes and fur caps into my battered suitcase; and bid farewell to the teachers who had devoted their time to my education as a stranger, to everyone from a different wizarding school from around the world, I felt satisfied with my decision all those months ago.

You see, Durmstrang is not the greatest magical school in the world, nor is it dark and gloomy and as terrible as legends say. But neither is Ilvermorny, and I am proud to say that I know both of these schools well. I would say that misreading a sign and ending up in Sweden as opposed to Japan? Maybe not as terrible a blunder as it seemed.

* * *

 **A/N: Translations of the small selection of German words used in this fic-**

 **(Headcanon about this language being spoken at Durmstrang)**

 _ **Junge -**_ **boy**

 _ **Narr -**_ **fool**


End file.
